Why
by Queen of Kitty Cats
Summary: Phineas is being his usual oblivious self. Ferb decides to give him a push towards what's right in front of him.


**I do not own Phineas and Ferb.**

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"Tell Isabella she looks nice."

"Why?"

"Because she changed her hair." I didn't look up from my food as Phineas lifted himself slightly off the bench in a hope to see what I was talking about.

"For this?" His nose wrinkled. "Why go through all the trouble for a neighborhood picnic?"

 _Where are the guys when I need them?_ I shoved a plastic fork full of potato salad in my mouth. It was disgustingly warm, and I had to fight back the urge to gag. _Why does Mum insist on making this?_

Instead of moving on and allowing me to return to my silence, Phineas waited patiently for me to swallow. "Ferb?"

The tablecloths were pretty. A lace design around the edge and small flowers outlined in black against the white.

"Ferb."

How many of them would be stained beyond saving by the time everyone went home?

"Ferb."

A sigh escaped me. _Why couldn't I have just stayed quiet about it?_ "She's been wearing it like that for a few days."

Phineas blinked and looked over at her again where she sat with some of the other Fireside Girls a few tables over. I wasn't sure how we ended up sitting alone.

Not even Irving was creeping around. I poked at my potato salad. That made sense though. Ever since I found that spy camera hidden in our bathroom and threatened to shove it up his arse, he'd wisely been keeping his distance.

That guy disturbed me, and I still didn't know how he got a hold of a lock of my hair.

"I hadn't noticed," Phineas said slowly.

 _Well, duh. That's why I pointed it out._ I rolled my eyes.

His eyes lit up, and my heart leaped. Was he finally getting it? Probably too much to hope.

"Do you like Isabella?" He was excited by his blatantly wrong theory.

My heart sunk. _Yes, too much to hope..._ I shook my head.

There was a flash of confusion over on the thirteen-year-old's face. "Why not?"

 _Not my type._ I shrugged. _She's too into pink. And she's bossy. And she ignores me half the time._

 _But she is fun to flirt at._ Watching her get flustered and look torn between dying of embarrassment and slapping me is the most amusement I get out of hanging around with her these days.

Not that Isabella can't be fun, but she's Phineas' bestfriend, not mine, and she tends to make that very clear.

Phineas frowned. "Are you _sure_? I've seen you flirt with her."

 _Really?_

Milly walked past our picnic table, and I snapped my fingers loudly. The girl's head turned to look at me.

I smirked, pointed at her, and clicked my tongue while winking.

A soft giggle came from her, and she ducked her head, blushing before hurrying back to her table.

Letting my smirk fall, I raised an eyebrow at my brother.

"Okay. I get it." He rolled his eyes. "But why do I have to say something about her hair?"

I sat down my fork and leaned forward. Phineas leaned as well to match me.

"Because it's your job as her bestfriend."

"That's it?" he whined.

 _What? Did he think the 'why' was tied into the meaning of life? Unless he wanted me to tell him that Isabella has a massive crush on him, but how could he when he has no idea?_ I pulled back.

I could see the excuse forming-why was he being so difficult?-and stood up, walked around the table and pulled him from the bench seat.

"Ferb!" he yelped at the semi-rough treatment, and I shoved him in the general direction of the girl table.

I crossed my arms when he shot me a glance over his shoulder. Then, as he continued to hesitate, I made a 'get on with it' gesture.

With a sigh, he began to walk, shoving his hand deep into his jean pockets. Posture screaming 'pouting child.'

It blew my mind sometimes that he's older than me.

While it was too far away for me to hear what he said when he reached her, but Isabella's pleased squeal carried loud and clear.

I could only hope I wasn't causing more trouble than good by manipulating Phineas into giving her hope.

He had to grow up at some point and realise what was in front of him, didn't he?

...It might take a while, but that's not exactly a bad thing.


End file.
